


Hidden in Plain Sight

by eqyptiangold



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Exhibitionism, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 13:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eqyptiangold/pseuds/eqyptiangold
Summary: “I dare you to jerk off right now.”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Hidden in Plain Sight

“I dare you to jerk off right now.” 

Sherlock doesn’t even deign to answer, pointedly sticking his nose up and levelling the teacher with an unnerving stare rather than look at his deskmate. 

“Oh, come on!” John protests, nudging at his best mate. “I know you’re not actually interested in this hermit crab’s yapping. You’re the smartest person in this building,” — John’s weak attempt at flattery earns back Sherlock’s gaze, right before he closes off with — “probably.” Sniffing irritably, Sherlock flips his textbook to a random page and begins crossing out words with a black marker. Considering the fact that the overhead lights are off, the only source of brightness coming from the teacher’s board, he’s mostly just scribbling in the dark. “Sherlock,” John whines, quite impressively considering the fact that he’s still whispering. “I’ll do it if you do it. No one will see.” Their legs are concealed by the lab tables with solid wood wrapping around, along with the fact that the pair is tucked away at the very back of the classroom. 

“Look, John, ‘amphibian’ is spelled incorrectly on this page,” Sherlock lies, angling his textbook towards John. “I think I will contact the publishing company to complain.” 

“They don’t care, Sherlock; this textbook was published twenty years ago.” 

“So you can see when others are making fruitless endeavours, but not yourself?” Sherlock replies crisply, smirking just a bit. “Honestly. Masturbating in class? Your hormonal perversion knows no bounds, John.” 

Despite himself, John giggles softly. He leans into Sherlock to hide it and, for just a moment, Sherlock luxuriates in the feeling of his best friend’s dirty blond hair pressing against his neck while the boy shakes with laughter. Between one subtle inhale of vaguely apple-scented shampoo and the next, however, said best friend suddenly gets a hand on the groin of Sherlock’s uniform trousers and gropes lasciviously. Narrowly, Sherlock restrains a grunt of surprise. 

“John,” he says warningly, clamping a tight grip on the boy’s hand. Although his hand stops its groping, the warm heat of John’s palm through clothing is still enough to make Sherlock’s stomach simmer with warmth. 

Leaning in, John whispers with his mouth pressed along Sherlock’s ear. “I’m hard, Sherlock.” No amount of self-control could stop the shudder that wracks Sherlock’s body, and John evidently notices. He huddles even closer until their legs are pressed together, knee to thigh, and lets out a low, breathy sigh of arousal that has gooseflesh breaking out across Sherlock’s neck. 

The mood has changed abruptly fast; Sherlock feels weak with it. 

“Fuck,” John murmurs, voice deepening with quicksilver arousal. “God, I need— it won’t go away. Everytime I-” John adjusts in his seat, and Sherlock is sharply attuned to the near-silent sound of his trousers shifting. “Ohhh,” John breathes lowly in his ear, overwhelmingly erotic for such an unfit setting. “Been hard since class started. I haven’t jacked off in ages. Would only take— just a couple strokes.” 

Sherlock could swear his skin is smoking; he feels unbearably hot, the collar of his shirt beginning to feel damp with sweat. No number of nights in the dorms spent listening to John muffle his sounds in a pillow while masturbating could have prepared Sherlock for this— John, voice breaking with arousal, panting in his ear and practically begging for a hand on him. Nevermind the fact that John’s own hand is still pressed along the line of Sherlock’s stubbornly growing erection, only further stoking the relentless fire burning in Sherlock’s lower stomach and chest. 

“John,” he says weakly, feeling his impressive vocabulary crumble like sand. All he can hear is the soft  _ shwiff, shwiff _ of John’s trousers as he grinds his hips in slow, needy thrusts. “We’re in class,” Sherlock pants, barely aware of the way he’s begun to slouch back against his best mate.  _ Platonic _ best mate who, before now, has never shown any sexual interest in Sherlock beyond an obnoxious ass slap meant to annoy rather than titillate. 

John seems beyond comprehension. “Had a dream about you last night. Didn’t have time to get off this morning and I’ve been fucking- fucking  _ desperate  _ ever since.” Small whimpery noises are beginning to sneak out with every breath that John takes. “I see you eyeing me when I come back from rugby practice or the showers, you know. Drove me fucking mad, watching you- you-  _ eyefuck  _ me every day. Every time, I wanted to just tackle you and make you mine but—” he cuts off and Sherlock can’t even find it himself to be frustrated, too overwhelmed by the realization that John  _ likes him _ . All this time spent thinking that John was just joking around— for once, Sherlock is glad to be wrong. “God, I want to touch myself so bad.” 

Almost absentmindedly, John’s warm hand on Sherlock’s cock begins to shift slightly, rubbing in a maddeningly teasing way. Sherlock’s hips buck up into the touch and John groans as if his prick is the one being stroked through layers of fabric. “Want you to fuck my mouth like that,” John whispers, his mouth a warm pressure along Sherlock’s neck. “Cum all over my face, really stake your claim. I’m— I’m yours.” 

As if it has a mind of its own, Sherlock’s hand flies to John’s fly and frees his cock in practiced movements from his own school uniform trousers. Absently, he is aware of the wooden desk over them both, the teacher at the front of the room, the students littered around. Although the lights are off and the two boys sit in the back of the room, someone will inevitably notice if John begins moaning. It sends a thrill down Sherlock’s spine. 

With a loose fist around John’s cock, Sherlock slowly jerks him off as best he can with only the lubrication of the blond boy’s pre-cum. Admittedly, there is an impressively steady stream of it. For a moment, John seems not to react to the touch and a quiet flare of worry spreads through Sherlock. In the next second, however, John slams his head as firmly against Sherlock’s neck as he can and bites down on the skin he finds there. An obscene moan is successfully muffled but, with their proximity, Sherlock can still hear well enough for it to make his cock jump in response. 

“D’you think anyone’d— oh bloody— !” John lifts his head long enough to get out a few breathy words before he’s ducking back in close to muffle more pleasured sounds against Sherlock’s carotid artery. Carefully, Sherlock eases up on his pressure just enough that the other boy can speak through heavy breaths. “Y’think anyone would notice if I slipped under the table to suck you?” The mental picture has Sherlock sucking his lower lip into the vice of his teeth to hold back a sound. 

“Later,” he manages, and John seems to let out a pleased sound at the prospect of a  _ later _ together. “Right now I just want—“ Cruelly, Sherlock suddenly begins jerking John with a mean twist of his thumb on the up-stroke that makes John yelp in uncontainable pleasure. 

From the front of the class, the teacher pauses whatever video she’s put on at some point after Sherlock got his hand on John. “Mr. Watson? Problem back there?” Luckily, Sherlock and John have always had equivocal views on personal space; the teacher doesn’t question their proximity. 

Unluckily for John, Sherlock has no problems continuing to slowly rub him beneath the lab table even with the teacher’s eyes on them. Weakly, John attempts to counter by grinding his palm against Sherlock’s bulge, but it’s easy to catch his hand and pull it away— the blond boy is too overwhelmed by all the dual sensations hitting him. 

“No- no problem here, ma’am,” he stammers, his cock twitching its approval of the exhibitionism. Sherlock chuckles quietly under his breath and John elbows him. 

“Try to contain yourself then,” the teacher replies crisply before playing the video once again. As soon as the attention is off of him, John finds Sherlock’s fly and shakily attempts to unzip his trousers. 

“Shh,” Sherlock murmurs, nudging him away again. “You first,” he promises, speeding back up to the cruel pace that has John practically convulsing to try and remain quiet and undiscovered by anyone else. It doesn’t take long before the beautiful blond boy is biting down on Sherlock’s neck as he spills over his fist, Sherlock narrowly managing to catch it all in his palm. Subtly, his ducks down and brings his hand up to lick it clean; John whimpers. 

“You are a cruel man,” he pants, face flushed beautifully and eyes watery with pleasure. He allows himself only a few minutes to slouch against Sherlock’s side and recuperate before moving. Sherlock finds himself with John’s hands on his trousers again, freeing his desperately hard cock and immediately rubbing the swollen head. 

“Oh!” Sherlock gasps, nearly hitting his head on the table when he instinctively curls up. “Oh fuck,  _ John _ .” Every brush of John’s calloused palms on his cock feels like electric shocks that overwhelm Sherlock’s system, turning his mind into a pool of euphoric static and  _ JohnJohnJohn _ . 

“Yeah, love, you sound so fucking hot whispering my name like that,” John replies softly, and his praise makes a pool of pre-cum drool down Sherlock’s cock. “D’you like that, baby? Fuck, your cock is so  _ pretty,  _ Sherlock. You’re beautiful. Want to do this forever, just make you feel good for the rest of our lives.” 

“ _ John _ ,” Sherlock hisses desperately. It’s amazing how quickly he’s been reduced to a mass of flesh and hormones, a strike of lightning with John as the lightning rod. 

“Yes, love, I’m here,” John whispers, his free hand coming around to stroke the sensitive skin of Sherlock’s inner thighs. “God, you’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to get you alone so I can hear all those pretty sounds you’re holding back.” Biting his lip viciously, Sherlock whimpers and hopes that no one has heard it. “That feel good?” John asks, quite unnecessarily. With his lips brushing Sherlock’s ear, the boy murmurs, “That was a mean trick, you know, making me moan in front of the teacher.” All Sherlock can manage is what he hopes is a remorseful-sounding whispery whine. If John sets his mind to coaxing a loud noise out of him, Sherlock is quite sure that there’s nothing that could stop him from screaming his pleasure. “Don’t worry, love. All your moans are just for me, and I don’t like sharing.” John’s grip on Sherlock’s thigh tightens possessively and it’s all Sherlock can do to melt into his best mate’s side with shallow, panting breaths. 

“ _ John _ .”

“Come for me, my love. I got you.” It takes embarrassingly little time at all before Sherlock is arching his hips clear off the chair and into John’s palm, coming hard enough to make his vision fuzz out for a moment. Yet John reacts as though it’s the best moment of his life, praise falling from his lips and reverent gasps escaping him. “Yes, sweetheart, just like that, you’re perfect. You’re brilliant Sherlock, I love you, I love you so much.” 

Still panting, lip near bleeding from biting it, Sherlock speaks what feels like the truest statement he’s ever made. “I love you too, John. I love you.” 

Later, the two of them will hide away in the washroom and John will giggle while Sherlock attempts to scrub small cum stains out of his trouser. Sherlock will complain that John should have taken better care to catch it all and John will retort that he was a ‘bit bloody well distracted watching the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen!’ Then Sherlock will slam him into the tiled wall with a biting kiss — their first one — and the pair will make out until their lips are swollen and cheeks are flushed. They’ll get chastised for showing up late to their next class, with Sherlock’s jacket tied around his waist and John’s tie loose around his neck, and John will apologize diplomatically while Sherlock rolls his eyes. 

For now, though, the pair is content to melt into each other and bask while a video about the water cycle drones in the background. 


End file.
